


The Dragon-helm of Discord

by Sath



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Epistolary, Furniture euphemisms, Gift Giving, Humor, Laws and Customs of the Eldar, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sath/pseuds/Sath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the Helm of Hador found its proper head, explored through letters. </p><p>Now with a confession of misdeeds by Finrod Felagund.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon-helm of Discord

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Dragon-helm of Discord/龙盔风云](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6131521) by [kiii17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiii17/pseuds/kiii17)



Hail, Maedhros Fëanorion, the Tall: 

I had not the time to properly thank you for your good courtesy when you came to my aid against the sudden advance of a party of Orcs. Battle does wonderful things to the Dwarven race, and I believe that you may not have properly understood my blessings of your beard, when it is very obvious you have none. I am not blind, but my people lack the vocabulary to praise someone without also praising their beard. There was also my awkward embrace of your hips, which I have been told by my advisors constituted a Noldorin marriage proposal. Unfortunately, when a Dwarf of average height attempts to give a comradely hug to a tall Elf, it only  _resembles_  a Noldorin marriage. While I would not be opposed to the joining of our kingdoms, I am already wed and your hips (since I felt them), do not feel suited for the begetting of heirs. I have enclosed with this letter what I think would be a far less ambiguous thank you: a magnificent helm crafted by Telchar, one of my race’s greatest smiths, which guards its wearer from all harm, and also has excellent ornamental value by virtue of the snarling Glaurung over the visor. 

I think you would look very well in it. 

May your beard grow ever longer and redder, 

Azaghâl, Lord of Belegost

* * *

To my dear cousin, Fingon Fingolfinion,

Due to a cultural misunderstanding between myself and Azaghâl after brave deeds were done, his people were convinced that we had married on the field. The rumours may have reached you before this most earnest missive. I know that you would not lend credence to collections of obscene lyrics speculating on the sorts of positions needed to facilitate a physical union between myself and Azaghâl; nevertheless, I wish to apologize for having caused any offense to you, as some of the more readily exiled bards have composed songs implying that I have been unfaithful to you, though as everyone in our family is aware, we have ever been appropriate in our affections and are only very good friends. 

I have enclosed with this letter an enchanted Dwarven helmet. May it aid you in our resistance of the Enemy.

Maedhros, Lord of Himring

P. S. You will have to tell me if the image of Glaurung on the visor is accurate or not.

* * *

To my dear half-cousin and fellow prince of the Noldor, Maedhros Fëanorion,

I am touched by your tender re-gifting of a Dwarf-forged helmet; I thought it looked very fine on Azaghâl! However, as you have known in the past, the dimensions of my head are finite, and my neck is of the finely moulded and slender type. In lieu of allowing it to gather dust, I have given it to my most loyal and skilled liegeman, Hador. 

He looks very well in it. 

Ever united in hatred of Morgoth,

Fingon, Prince of Hithlum

P.S. The figure does not resemble Glaurung at all. 

P.P.S. Did you write your letter to be read aloud over dinner? My father has not, nor will he ever, open my mail, particularly from you. Though I know you live with no one of greater authority than yourself, I have nonetheless replied in the same appropriate and friendly spirit.

* * *

To my dear wife, 

I have received a most remarkable gift from my lord Fingon. It is a helmet, forged by the great Dwarven smith Telchar, and as you will be thrilled to know, protects me from all harm. Originally, it was a gift from Azaghâl, Lord of Gostabel, to Maedhros Fëanorion, of the red hair and the icy mountain fortress, but then because of a regrettable mix-up, Maedhros gave it to my lord to apologize for the dirty songs about him and Fingon now being about Maedhros and Azaghâl. 

I am not sure exactly what I have stepped into, but I like the helm very well and I hope to pass it on to my heirs. However, I may not survive this visit by Maedhros, who shouted about wanting to kill me as soon as he galloped into the courtyard. Prince Fingon immediately came to my aid and drew Maedhros away to his private chambers. After yelling quite emotionally about how much they love each other—and as we have previously agreed, I will not be crass in my speculation about how the Noldor rearrange their furniture—it seems that my lord began to vigorously push Maedhros’s garderobe from one end of the room to the other, which has made him less murderous in the past.  

King Fingolfin has announced that he is going on a hunt, despite the inconvenient lateness of the hour. I am hiding in one of the guard towers, and of course I am wearing my helmet. I think it makes me look dashing. 

Your loving husband,

Hador

* * *

To my dear brother, Maedhros the Even-Tempered,

Yes, I wrote the song about Azaghâl’s love ladder, and also the one where Fingon jealously strangles Azaghâl with his beautiful hair. Will you ever tell me how he prevents breakage? No matter—brothers are allowed to keep secrets from each other. 

I apologize for the catchiness of the refrains. However, much as I would love to claim it, I was not the author of “Maedhros Tugs His Beard”; that was Finrod. 

The accomplished singer,

Maglor 

* * *

To my dear sister Galadriel,

I may have done a bad thing.

My good friend Azaghâl asked me if Elves do not embrace one another, wondering if Maedhros has taken offense to being hugged. According to Azaghâl, our comely and flustered cousin said, “That’s my crotch” and did not indicate whether that was a good or bad place for a Dwarven beard. I assure you that I had nothing but Maedhros’s best interests in mind when I told Azaghâl that he and Maedhros were now married. My hope had been to press Maedhros and Fingon into a public confession of love, for they have been married according to the laws and customs of the Eldar for many years—several weddings have occurred in one of my guest rooms, which I have generously never teased them about. Really, I just wanted our family dinners to have less veiled metaphors for sex coming with the pheasant.

I admit that writing “Maedhros Tugs His Beard” was rude, but the rhymes came to me unbidden in the bath and as Daeron once told me, never let a good song go unsung. Maglor has been a traitor to me, and revealed the authorship to his brother. Now Maedhros is taking up a large amount of space in my great hall and cannot be put off for much longer.

Kindly deliver my eulogy, and recommend me as the funniest of the Noldor race.

Love, and my affectionate regards to Thingol and Melian,

Finrod 

**Author's Note:**

> Dude, Hador, talking about Maedhros's garderobe does not make it anywhere near less crass.


End file.
